Today and Tomorrow

So, twenty-four hours from the launch of my book, and I'm starting to twitch a little. This is not unusual; ignore me. Just to reiterate, for those who just started reading this blog:

Time and Place: Monday, September 15, 2008 at 7:30pm (Doors at 7pm.)
Location: Gladstone Hotel, 1214 Queen Street West, SECOND FLOOR GALLERY (I always forget to walk up the stairs)

I'm hoping, by the time I make to that point tomorrow, I'll have the confidence and the suavity to say something interesting and/or witty. As for the rest of today, in a minute I'm gonna write. Because really, today tomorrow and always, that's what I do. Like this:


We go sit in the waiting room with all the dusty dying plastic carnations and the real rubber plant, so shiny it looks plastic. There’s a few people sitting in the chairs. Some people just look like us, jeans and sweaters and staring at the ceiling, but one woman has her hair in blue plastic curlers under gauzy pink scarf like my mother used to wear; one man is wearing slippers and a navy robe with gold trim. They seem to live there, so what are they waiting for? A man with a beard comes from the hall carrying a guitar case. He sits down by the window and takes out the guitar, which has an American flag painted on it. There’s coins in the shiny red fluff of the inside of the case.

The curler woman nods and taps her foot as he starts to play and sing, something sleepy and Spanish. He taps his foot, too. He isn’t wearing shoes, but his toenails are nicely cut and clean. This room is not the waiting room; it is the living room.
--From "This Is A Podcast" a story that isn't, really, yet


See you tomorrow. Please smile encouragingly.

As cool as I am I thought you knew that already
RR